


Bittersweet Ficlet

by xmoomzix



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Kissing, M/M, Pining John, Pining Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6480148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmoomzix/pseuds/xmoomzix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock doesn't think he's what John wants, but will give him what he thinks he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet Ficlet

Sherlock lay still on the couch. It had long since passed the midnight hour but he could not bring himself to move. A torrent of thoughts weighed heavily in his head.. confusing, damning thoughts. A crisp white sheet covered his nudity. He had once again declined to dress himself, investing his time either in the mind palace or perusing his emails.

To be fair, John is becoming more tolerant of his flatmates habits, gaze usually directed (politely) elsewhere however. Whether it be the window, an object or to the ceiling; Johns blue eyes had always been cast away..

Except tonight.

Sherlock didn’t think anything of it at first and had settled into position, fingers pressed together under his chin. Then he started noticing something, the weight of a pair of eyes watching him. After a while, Sherlock noted that John's eyes tended to linger on him from time to time and Sherlock had never felt more exposed. With immediate effect, his stomach fluttered and his blood began to stir, heat crawling over his body and radiating from flushed cheeks.

If John noticed, he didn’t say.

There was something exciting about the way the man looked at him and Sherlock dared to observe his reactions, seeing something flicker in the others eyes as they drifted over his semi-nude form. Sherlock bit his lip. He felt hot. Then, to his mortification, their eyes met. Johns face remained as passive as it had been but held his gaze for a few agonising moments. Sherlock jolts violently when John speaks suddenly.

“I think that's me for the night, I'm knackered." He announced, before getting up and padding up to bed.

John...

That single name shot through Sherlocks mind, swift and potent, like the elegant swipe of a blade. Though in it’s wake it left not blood nor wounds, but desire and sorrow. Desire because of the fond feelings he had developed for the man but sorrow because he knows he will never be who John really wants.

Sherlock wished he could banish those thoughts but he couldn't deny the feelings that had been building over the months. He hated himself for it. He needed to talk to John.

Determination had him rising to his feet, wrapping the sheet firmly around himself before heading up the stairs. He didn't bother knocking and pushed the door to John's bedroom open. 

“Sorry to barge in but I need to- ” Sherlock paused, eyes widening in surprise and then softening with concern. John had various letters clutched to his chest, head bowed as silent tears tracked down his cheeks. He didn't say a word. Swallowing thickly, Sasuke tentatively reached out and touched the his flatmates arm. “John..” He whispers, not really knowing what to say.

Carefully, he prised the papers from Johns arms, expecting resistance but finding none. His eyes dropped to the faded ink.

Him.

Sherlock had treat John to dinner one evening and some of the army doctors past was shared after a few tongue-loosening wines. This included a man, Major Sholto. Many of the letters were signed by Sholto and it didn't take much for Sherlock to deduce the obvious. Whether there was a relationship or not, the pair had feelings for one another. Sighing deeply, Sherlock straightened the letters and placed them aside. He turned to John slowly. He couldn't offer any words, he’d never been good sentiment. He knew what John needed though, even if it pained Sherlock to consider it.

Approaching cautiously, Sherlock circled his fingers around John's wrists, guiding them gently to his sides. John warched him with watery eyes, Sherlock seeing the questioning in them. Sucking in a deep breath, he leant in, pressing his lips to the Johns moist ones. John was unresponsive at first but refusing to be discouraged,  Sherlock pressed his lips more firmly, more urgently.. moving them sensually to try and coax out a response.

He wasn't disappointed. John started to kiss back and as soon as that happened, a small noise of approval escaped from Sherlock. He released John's wrists to bury his hands in his hair. He clutched on to dear life as the kiss became more heated, more hungry. It is like Sherlock had opened a door and all their desires had come pouring out. Teeth, lips, tongue.. Sherlock was almost trembling at the pleasant sensations assaulting his body. 

Yet..

Moisture filled the rims of his eyes. His heart ached painfully and as John pushed him down onto the mattress and disposed of the sheet, all Sherlock could think was that he was just a replacement for Sholto. A replacement he will quite happily be.. so long as he doesn't have to see John, his love, cry again. 


End file.
